


Heart to Heart

by Bette Bourgeois (PK_preservation_project)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:25:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16712005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PK_preservation_project/pseuds/Bette%20Bourgeois
Summary: Harry is in love with Tom, but Tom is only interested in women...or so he thinks.





	Heart to Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Leigh, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [P/K All the Way](https://fanlore.org/wiki/P/K_All_the_Way) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [P/K All the Way’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/pkalltheway/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: Startrek belongs to Paramount. No infringement intended. 
> 
> Warnings: Non-canon smarm. Gratuitous use of angst. Abuse of an Omnipotent Being as a plot device. Straight-gay-bi issues tackled in a way that is _supposed_ to reflect consensus expressed onlist i.e. love is not gender specific. Not beta-read. 
> 
> Dedicated to Varoneeka with thanks and in apology for a nice idea that never panned out.

Ensign Harry Kim sat alone in his quarters aboard USS Voyager, lost in the Delta Quadrant, checking over the figures he had entered into the datapad he held in his hand. He was working on a new configuration for presenting the sensor sweep data on his console on the bridge so that it would download faster to the command consoles when needed. Captain Janeway had voiced some impatience with delays in the transfer of new data during life-and-death situations and he had promised to look into a more efficient way of getting the information to the command displays in the absolute minimum amount of time. So far, all it was doing was giving him a big headache. 

They just didn't have the technology or resources for him to really make that big a difference in the way information could be handled by the ship's computer. All he could do was try to increase his own response time in acquiring the data and forwarding it, and make the readouts easier to access visually. He was well aware of the fact that it wasn't a solution at all, and this was a constant source of frustration as he tried to work on the problem. 

Finally, he sat back in his chair and threw the datapad down on his desk. Maybe B'Elanna could come up with an idea he hadn't thought of yet. 

"Computer, location of Lieutenant Torres." There was no way Harry was going to contact B'Elanna directly if she was still down in Engineering. She'd have him down there on some excuse or other and the first thing he knew, he'd be helping her with one of her problems instead of B'Elanna helping him with his. 

"Lieutenant Torres is currently located in Engineering." 

Damn. He'd have to wait and try and catch her in the messhall at breakfast. He was _not_ going to spend the evening crawling around jeffries tubes in Engineering. He'd had enough of that in the past week to last a lifetime. What he most wanted in the whole universe right now was a fully equipped Starfleet spacedock so that they could do some real repairs, some real upgrading, and get this ship into shape for the seventy year journey it seemed destined on following. Right now their lives were filled with instances of constantly having to 'make do' and Harry was sick to death of having to 'make do.' 

Harry had had enough of banging his head against a titanium wall looking for solutions that weren't to be found. With a sigh he got up and headed into the bathroom to take a water shower as hot as the limited resources on Voyager could manage and then he was going to try to relax for the rest of the night. At least they had the holodecks. 

Harry stood for long moments under the torrent of water that was more warm than hot and let it pound him. Letting his mind drift into a blank void, he concentrated solely on the sensation of the water hitting his skin, sluicing down his body, rippling over muscle and bone on the way to puddling at his feet before being sucked into the drain for recycling. The sensation wasn't unlike the soothing caress of a lover, he thought, and that brought forward familiar images from even more familiar fantasies. 

Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the flow of water. Yes, he could imagine long fingers brushing over his shoulders, sliding down his chest to his nipples, down the center of his abdomen, and disappearing into his pubic hair. He could see those blue eyes sparkle in that handsome pale-skinned face as the shower water pulled his blond locks into wet curls. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine that well-sculpted mouth inching closer to his cock, and a hungry pink tongue reaching out to catch the drops of water dripping off the end of it. He could see that generous mouth opening and closing around him. 

Damn. Harry turned and let the water hit him full in the face. He pounded his fist against the wall in anger at the betrayal of his own mind. He acknowledged the fact that he wanted Tom Paris more than he had ever wanted any other human being in his entire life, but he hated the way his mind and body tricked him into indulging in these useless fantasies. All they did was get him uncomfortably aroused. Then there was nothing for it but to continue with the fantasy and bring himself off. 

Harry hated it. It always ended the same way. Yes, he always managed to come, and yes, it always felt good. But feeling good was not the point any more. Harry was sick and tired of two years of jerking off to fantasies of his best friend. He needed a hell of a lot more and he knew that he was never going to get it from Tom. He needed to get himself a girlfriend, a boyfriend or a life of some kind outside of his job or he was going to go crazy. He needed something or somebody to help fill this awful gaping hole in his life; this loneliness, this gnawing hunger for closeness and comfort and . . . God, he supposed what he really wanted was love.

* * *

Lieutenant Tom Paris was sitting slumped at the bar in Sandrine's, synthale at his elbow, head in hands, thinking almost exactly the same thoughts as his friend Harry. 

"What am I doing wrong?" he grumbled out loud. 

No one was listening to him, not even Sandrine, who was casting sympathetic glances in his direction as she served the other crewmembers. She had seen Tom slouching against the bar in despair over a love affair gone sour too many times to pay much attention. He would drink all night, and then he would shamble off to his quarters, and then tomorrow evening he would show up with another dazzling beauty on his arm and a smile that could rival the sun lighting up his handsome face. That was Tom. There was always another pretty face to lighten up his life. 

Tom didn't see it that way. Tom Paris had come to the conclusion that he just wasn't lucky in love. He knew he was good-looking. He knew how to pour on the charm. He knew how to make a woman feel like a queen and he had been pouring all his off-time energies into just that, trying to find that elusive someone; trying to make a connection, searching for something to hang onto besides the fact that he was a damn good pilot and Voyager needed him and the Captain trusted him to guide her ship through anything the Delta Quadrant had to throw at them. Sure it was gratifying. Sure it was an ego boost. He was one of the team, valued, depended upon to keep this ship safe, just as much as the Commander, or B'Elanna, or the Captain herself. 

But that didn't help in the middle of the night when he woke up wanting a pair of warm arms around him. That didn't help when he woke up alone every morning. Sure he had women in his bed. Sure there was a lot of laughter heard in his quarters. But it always seeped away, leaving him alone and feeling strangely empty. The good times were good. The fun was just as fun. But he wanted something more; something to carry around with himself all day and all night. He wanted a feeling that he belonged to someone special, and that someone special belonged only to him. He wanted love and he couldn't seem to find it. 

"Want some company?" a familiar voice said at his elbow. Tom turned to watch Harry slide onto the stool beside him at the bar. 

"Hey, Harry. B'Elanna let you loose early did she?" Tom teased. 

"Didn't get the chance to get her hooks into me tonight. I'd had enough by the end of shift and made myself scarce." Harry waved at Sandrine and she smiled and moved to get him a synthale. 

"Smart move, Harry. You're learning." 

"Oh, I don't mind helping out in my off time," Harry shrugged. "I just didn't feel like it tonight. The day on the bridge was long enough." 

"I heartily agree," Tom chuckled derisively. "You know, we hate it when the Kazon are making our lives miserable. And we hate it even more when they leave us alone to make our way past endless systems of gas-cloud-covered planets. Right about now I could use a nasty firefight against incredible odds or a spot of shore leave on a war-torn M-class planet. What about you?" 

Harry just snorted and accepted his drink from a smiling Sandrine. "Get real, Tom." He gestured to his friend. "How many has he had, Sandrine?" She just shook her head at Harry and turned away with a knowing grin. 

"Hey, I'm barely getting started here," Tom groused loudly. "I can handle my synthale, don't you worry." He lifted his glass, clinked it loudly against the side of Harry's then drained it quickly. "Another one please, Sandrine," he called out to the proprietress. 

Harry groaned as he watched Tom. He'd seen this too many times before. "All right, Tom. Which one dumped you tonight?" 

Harry tried to keep a straight face. It was hard. Tom's love life was a thing of legend on Voyager. Everyone knew when he had made a new conquest, just as everyone eventually found out when he was dumped. At first Tom had tried to keep it quiet. But Voyager was too small and the crew too closeknit for subterfuge to work. Sometimes the girls in Stellar Cartography knew when one of them was going to dump him even before Tom did. It was not an encouraging sign. 

Tom had gotten into the habit of referring to his romantic life in the same terms as the rest of the crew. Harry was wondering how long the man was going to be able to keep bouncing back like he did. He wondered how long it would take before he started to show that he wasn't able to bounce back any more. Harry cared about his friend. Sometimes he worried about him. But so far there had been no sign of burnout, just the occasional inevitable ups and downs; the ups leading to incredible expenditures of carefully hoarded replicator credits and the downs leading to synthale binges and well-intentioned oaths about swearing off women for life. 

Neither lasted. Tom had been pegged by every woman on board as a lightweight; fun, but not one to invest enough of himself into a relationship to make it last. The irony was that Tom acted that way because he had been dumped so many times, he was afraid of putting all his feelings on the line for one woman. So, here he was again, trying vainly to drown his sorrows in synthale and complaining about his love life to his best friend. 

"Harry, I give up," Tom vowed, shaking his head. 

"Where have I heard that before?" Harry muttered under his breath. 

"There just isn't a woman on board Voyager who has what it takes to make a real relationship work." 

"Is that right?" Harry answered absentmindedly, studying Tom's grim expression. His friend was really down on women tonight. It must have been a messy break-up. He was definitely not bouncing back from this one. 

"They're all too damn independent, that's the problem. Starfleet trained, the lot of them, and the ex-Maquis are even worse. They want to run the relationship their way and damned be the man who gets in the way. They're all too tied up in their jobs to take a romantic relationship seriously. It's okay for fun and games, but just try getting serious with one of them!" 

" _You_ tried to get serious with a woman?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism. 

Tom dropped his glass on the bar with a clunk and turned to glare at Harry. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Harry sat up on his stool, drawing back from the fierceness of Tom's question. "Uhh . . ." he tried to stall until he could figure out what he had said to get Tom so angry. 

"You're as bad as they are. You just think I'm some kind of convenience to the women on board this ship, don't you? Looking for a good time with no strings attached? Call good ol' reliable and always available Tom Paris," Tom spat in disgust. 

"No! That isn't how I see . . ." Harry tried to get in before Tom was off and running again. 

"When Sue and I started seeing each other I told her I wanted this to get serious. She said she felt the same. I thought we understood each other. Gods, was I wrong. Everything had to go according to her timetable. She had to keep trying to fit me in. I started feeling like 'the boyfriend' instead of someone she really cared about. And tonight! Shit, that was the last straw," Tom growled. 

"What happened?" Harry prompted carefully as he watched Tom swallow a gulp of his drink. 

"I'll tell you what happened. I've been busy all week after shift doing those damn flight sim upgrades for Chakotay. Hell, as if Bateheart couldn't do them just as easily. But, no, it's got to be me. So tonight is the first time in a week that I've had an evening free to be with her. And guess what? She's got to go over to Megan's quarters to do her _hair_ for her, for crying out loud! I said, 'We've been waiting for this all week, Sue,' and she says, 'but I promised Megan.' So I said, 'Don't you think it's time to put our relationship at the top of your priorities, Sue?' And do you know what she said? She said that her friendship with Megan was more important than any relationship she would ever have with me, and that if I couldn't understand that, then I wasn't the man for her. Can you believe that? I told her she should screw Megan while she's there and that I hope the two of them would be very happy together because I was not going to be hanging around while she did her girlfriend's hair!" 

Tom was flushed and furious, but he finally ran out of steam. He raised his glass with shaking hands, trying to calm himself with drink. Harry just stared speechless for several long silent moments. 

"You know, Tom," Harry tried to argue reasonably. "Sue has been friends with Megan a long time. Maybe Megan needed Sue to be her friend tonight. I think you should cut her some slack." 

"Cut _her_ some slack?" Tom stared at Harry in surprise. He'd thought Harry, of all people, would understand. 

Harry, of all people, _did_ understand. It was Tom who was missing the irony of his accusations. How many times had either he or Harry dropped everything to come to the aid of the other? 

"Yeah, cut her some slack," Harry nodded. "Relationships aren't made in a day or a week, Tom. You have to let them grow, leave room for give and take. You and Sue are going to hit some snags along the way, have some disagreements about priorities. It happens in every relationship. You have to work past the disagreements and find a compromise." 

"Not this time," Tom stated firmly. "This one is finished right here. Sue and I have been working on the snags since the first date, and all the compromising has been on my side. I've had it. No more Mr. Nice Guy Paris. Finis." He turned back to his drink with a shrug of acceptance and finality. 

"That's too bad, Tom. Sounded like you really thought she was the one this time." 

"Yeah, well, I was wrong," Tom muttered. "Again." 

"Maybe you're trying too hard." 

"I sure was. I really tried on this one, Harry, and look where it got me. Well, at least _I_ did the dumping this time." 

Harry thought that was a moot point, but wasn't going to start a fight by pointing it out. "That isn't what I meant, Tom. I meant maybe you're trying too hard to find somebody. Why don't you just stop looking and maybe someone will come looking for you." Yeah, like me, Harry sighed inwardly. "It may be someone you've completely overlooked before. Ever think of that?" 

"Harry, you are the one who doesn't understand. I've already gone out with everyone on board who attracts me, barring B'Elanna, who is impervious to my charms it seems. Hell, it was the second time around for Sue and me, and it didn't work out any better this time than the last time. There's no one left!" 

"Are you sure about that, Tom?" Harry knew he was playing a slightly dangerous game. It was possible he could completely alienate his friend if he pushed too hard here. But maybe it was time to open Tom's eyes to some new possibilities. And if Tom started to look at the male members of the crew, why shouldn't he start with Harry? 

"Well, I can't really see myself making a play for Janeway, can you?" Tom grinned. "If she won't start anything with Chakotay, who I know she has real feelings for, then there's no way she'd ever look like that in my direction." 

"The Captain?" Harry chuckled and was glad to see the humour returning to Tom's eyes as well, even if it was self-deprecating. "No, I don't think it would be a good idea to put the moves on the Captain, Tom. Not as long as you want to work on the bridge." 

"It's a thought though, eh, Harry?" Tom teased. 

"A very dangerous thought, Tom," Harry warned. "You'd be safer trying to seduce B'Elanna." 

"Hell, I've tried, Harry. What do you take me for? I've been slapped down by that woman so many times it's becoming a reflex with her. All I have to do is look at her admiringly and she starts to growl." 

"Hey, growling is part of the Klingon Mating Ritual," Harry interjected helpfully. 

"Not this kind of growling, Harry. This growl indicates imminent loss of life and/or limbs and is the signal for a strategic and extremely hasty retreat." 

"So, I guess that leaves . . ." Harry trailed off suggestively. 

"That leaves exactly no one, Harry," Tom sighed. 

Harry looked down into his drink. "Not necessarily." 

Tom looked up. "Harry, we're never at one planet long enough to start anything up with a local. Besides, I can't see anyone actually wanting to leave their home planet just to hook up with a lonely human on an even lonelier journey through the Delta Quad." 

"I wasn't talking about aliens, Tom." 

"Well then, what the hell are you talking about, Harry? Don't go getting inscrutable on me here. You know I'm not into holodeck babes, so what are you getting at?" 

Harry swallowed. This was either going to work or it was going to be the biggest mistake he'd ever made on board Voyager. 

"Have you ever gone out with a guy before, Tom?" 

Tom stared at his friend as if he'd said something in an alien language. It just wasn't clicking in his mind. A guy? What kind of guy was he talking about? What did he mean, 'going out with a guy'? 

"What?" Tom's bewilderment was evident in his voice. 

Harry looked up into Tom's eyes. He held the searching blue gaze for a long moment as he waited for Tom to realize what he was talking about. He saw the exact moment when it happened. The blue eyes widened, then blinked. 

Tom sat back on his stool, his back straight, and stared at Harry. _Guys_! He couldn't help it. He felt laughter bubbling to the surface of his mind and he chuckled, shaking his head. He wasn't sure if it was amusement or a touch of hysteria. The idea had come as a bit of a shock. He had never thought about 'guys' in relation to himself before. He knew homosexuals and bisexuals among the crew. He just hadn't ever thought of them in terms of dates for himself. What the hell did Harry mean? Did Harry think he was bi? He watched Harry turn away from his laughter with a strange look on his face. Suddenly another idea popped into his head. Was Harry bi? 

Gods, was that why Harry had such a terrible time getting together with the women on board Voyager? He was attracted to a man on board instead? Oh, Harry. What if he's attracted to someone who isn't openly homosexual or bi? Poor Harry. What if he'd fallen in love with someone who was straight? Tom's expression softened as he stared at Harry's profile. He was a good-looking guy, he was sweet and brave and loyal. Everybody liked Harry. It was about time he'd gotten over having to leave Libby behind, but it would be just too cruel if Harry couldn't have his heart's desire, once he had finally found his heart's desire here on Voyager. 

Harry was trying to keep his face under control. He was afraid he had visibly winced at Tom's sudden laughter. So much for that idea. Tom thought he was joking. Maybe he'd better play along. 

"Harry . . ." Tom began, not knowing exactly how to broach the topic and not wanting to offend his friend's sensibilities. 

"Right," Harry interrupted him. "I didn't realize how funny that sounded until I said it. Glad to see a smile on your face anyway. If you can still laugh after just breaking up with Nicoletti, then I guess you made the right decision to break it off." Harry took a long drink, hoping Tom would go with the switch of topic. 

"Harry . . ." Tom tried again to find the words. His voice was unconsciously gentle. 

Tom's tone of voice sounded dangerously sympathetic. Harry panicked. There was no way he was going to reveal or even discuss his private feelings with Tom sitting in Sandrine's bar with half the crew listening in. He jumped up from his seat and, forcing a smile onto his face, clapped Tom on the back. 

"Didn't realize how late it was, buddy. Off to get a good night's sleep before throwing myself to the lions again tomorrow. See you in the morning, Tom." He gave his friend one last hearty grin and then quick-marched out of the holodeck as if his life depended upon reaching his quarters in the least amount of time possible. Which it did. 

Tom stared after Harry's quickly retreating back. Running, he thought. Poor Harry. His friend had opened up and revealed something deeply personal and now he was afraid that Tom had rejected him. Tom suddenly remembered his laughter and Harry's strange expression, almost of pain. Had it been pain? Oh, gods, had he hurt his best friend with that uncontrolled nervous reaction of his? 

"Thomas?" Sandrine's voice brought his attention around from the disappearing figure. "Is Harry all right?" "I don't know." Tom glanced back at the closed holodeck doors. "But I'm going to find out. Thanks, Sandrine." He smiled at her. 

"He's a good friend, Harry?" she asked. 

"The best," Tom agreed, and left the bar at a pace only slightly slower than Harry's.

* * *

Harry answered the summons at his door. It swished open to reveal his best friend looking anxious and worried. Harry just didn't think he could handle Tom's questions on top of his own right then. 

"Tom, I'm really beat tonight. Can this wait?" Harry rubbed his hands over his closed eyes wearily. 

"I really need to apologize, Harry. And I need to do it now or I won't be able to sleep." 

"Apologize?" Harry's hands dropped from his face as his eyes widened. "For what?" 

Tom looked down the corridor, both ways. "Can I come in? I really don't want to do this in the corridor." 

Harry reluctantly stepped back into his quarters and Tom stepped in beside him. The doors closed and they stood facing each other just inside the doorway. Tom noticed that Harry didn't motion for him to sit down, so he just stood facing Harry nervously, trying to order his thoughts into some coherent form before beginning. 

"Say whatever it is you want to say, Tom," Harry prompted. 

"I'm sorry, Harry. I think I must have hurt your feelings when I laughed there after you asked about whether I'd ever gone out with a guy on a date. I'm sorry I laughed, Harry. I really don't know why I did. It just kind of slipped out because I was so surprised, you know? What I mean is, I've never thought about it, in relation to me, you know? In relation to me and dating, that is. I mean, I know guys who do date other guys, but I just never really thought about it before. But I didn't mean to laugh or imply that there was anything funny about guys who do date other guys, because there isn't. I just haven't ever done it myself. Before . . ." 

Tom finally trailed off lamely, knowing his explanation had been barely coherent, but not being able to do anything about it. He still hadn't figured out why he was so nervous talking about this, and with Harry of all people. Hell, he could usually talk to Harry about anything. 

"That's okay, Tom. It doesn't matter." Harry shrugged and turned away, trying to hide his expression. 

"It does matter, Harry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. The suggestion wasn't out of line or anything. It just surprised me, that's all." 

"All right, then," Harry nodded. "Apology accepted. Now can we forget about this and both get some sleep?" Harry threw himself down on his sofa. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. 

There was silence as Tom came forward slowly and settled himself on the other end of the sofa. Harry wouldn't look at him. Tom felt awful about the misunderstanding. He had to do something to try and mend Harry's hurt feelings. 

"I've never gone out with another guy before," Tom repeated his confession. "Have you?" Tom tried to ask the question as gently as possible. 

Harry looked up to see an almost pleading look from Tom. Tom wanted to discuss this now. He wanted to somehow soothe Harry's hurt feelings. Harry didn't think he could handle it, but he'd try, for Tom, because Tom seemed to need it for his own peace of mind. And even now, Harry recognized that his feelings for the man went beyond desire, beyond friendship and into something deeper, stronger and more important to him than his own happiness. So, he'd talk to Tom if that was what Tom wanted. He'd tell him whatever he wanted to hear. 

"Yeah, I have," Harry told his best friend. "I had a boyfriend my first year at the Academy. It was just fun, nothing serious. I never felt seriously involved with anyone until Libby. And before you ask, yeah, I've known I was bisexual since I was sixteen." 

"Late bloomer, Harry?" Tom teased. 

"Not really," Harry responded with a grin. 

Tom relaxed a fraction when he saw that grin. He noticed how it mobilized the contours of Harry's handsome face, but didn't quite reach the dark opaque eyes. 

"I was chasing girls from my crib, so my mother always said," Tom joked, trying to keep lightening the mood. He knew he failed when Harry turned away again and bent over to clasp his hands between his knees. 

"Figures," Harry muttered. 

"Harry?" Tom waded into the ensuing uncomfortable silence. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want, but I was wondering, after that question you asked me . . . Harry, are you attracted to a guy here on Voyager?" 

"Why?" Harry still didn't look up. His hands clenched tightly together with increased tension. 

"Well, the thing is, I'm always pouring out my heartaches onto your shoulders and you're always giving me good advice. I know I'm not exactly the best person to be giving advice on matters of the heart, but I'd be willing to listen, and be a shoulder to cry on if you ever needed to tell anyone about anything like that. I mean, if there's someone you care about, have you told them? Is there some reason why you can't tell them? Maybe I can come up with an idea or two to help somehow. You could give me a try, Harry. After all, that's what a friend is for, right?" 

Harry lifted his head finally and looked into Tom's eyes. Tom felt his heart ache at the unhappiness exposed there for him to see and had to resist the urge to gather his friend into his arms for a hug. 

"Tom . . ." Harry's voice was strained with the effort to not lose control. 

"Tell me!" Tom urged quietly but insistently. "Are you in love with somebody, Harry?" 

"Yes," Harry breathed the confession in a tight whisper. 

"A guy?" Tom prompted. 

"Yes," Harry closed his eyes again and bent his head, but didn't turn away from the concern he felt pouring out of his friend. 

"Have you told him?" 

"No!" Harry grated out between clenched teeth. 

"Well, why not? Is he dating someone already?" 

"No," Harry muttered. 

"Is he het?" Tom whispered the question. 

"Yes," Harry whispered back. 

"Oh, Harry . . ." Tom's voice was filled with dismay. Gods, what was Harry going to do? What the hell would Tom do in that situation. He had no idea. 

"You're sure?" Tom tried to be hopeful. 

"I've never seen him dating another guy," Harry told him. 

"Well, that doesn't mean anything!" Finally Tom thought he could see a possibility presenting itself. "That doesn't mean he isn't attracted to guys. It might just mean that he doesn't feel comfortable being seen with guys in a romantic situation here on Voyager. You know, those Maquis guys are really into a lot of old-fashioned macho shit. I wouldn't blame any of them for not advertising the fact that they're attracted to guys, especially Starfleet guys. Or someone in Security. I could see someone in Security wondering whether Tuvok might look down on them if they were openly bisexual. Vulcan societal mores can be pretty rigid too." 

"Tom, I'm pretty sure this guy is not bisexual," Harry muttered, wondering what kind of trouble he'd gotten himself into by opening up to Tom. It looked like the man wasn't going to let this go easily. 

"Well, you'll never know until you ask him," Tom sounded decisive. 

"What?" Harry's shocked eyes gazed at his friend. 

"I think you should ask him out. It's the only way you'll know for sure, one way or the other. You can't go on making yourself miserable like this. If he refuses then you put it behind you and try and go on and find someone else. But there's a fifty-fifty chance that he'll be interested. That's pretty good odds there, Harry. Fifty-fifty is nothing to sneeze at. You'd be a fool not to give it a try. Hell, he may even say yes!" 

Tom felt incredibly enthusiastic about the prospect of Harry getting together with the man of his dreams. He'd really like to see Harry deliriously happy and in love. He realized he'd never seen Harry in love and he really honestly wanted to see that. Yeah. Harry in love would probably look like some kind of angel. He'd bet a week's credits that Harry would sparkle if he was happily in love. Tom decided he'd like to see that. 

Harry was staring at Tom open-mouthed in astonishment and dismay. Oh gods, what now? 

"No!" Harry was shaking his head vigorously in denial. 

"Why not? What have you got to lose?" Tom argued. 

"No!" Harry was vehement this time. "I couldn't," he added softly, beseechingly to Tom. "I just couldn't." 

"You're afraid that if he's strictly het, he'd laugh at you?" Tom prompted Harry to give him a reason. 

"I _know_ he'd laugh," Harry insisted. 

"You don't know for sure, you're just scared." 

"Yes!" Harry almost shouted. "I'm scared! Okay? I admit it. I'm too scared to risk it. Now leave it alone, Tom! Just leave it the hell alone, okay?" 

"I'll ask him," Tom made a split-second decision, but once made, decided it was a good one. Hell, it was the least he could do for as good a friend as Harry. Harry would do it for him, if the circumstances were reversed. Sure he would. 

"What?!" Harry's cry was incredulous. He couldn't have heard right. "You tell me who it is, and I'll ask him out. That way we'll find out if he's bi and he won't know that the one who's interested in him is you. He can laugh at me all he wants. I can always claim I did it on a dare. And if he says yes, I can take him on the date from hell and then leave him to recover in your capable hands. How's that? I think it's a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself." Tom metaphorically patted himself on the back for this one. He'd outdone himself. 

"You're crazy," Harry choked. 

"No, it's brilliant. Admit it," Tom grinned. 

Harry stared at his friend, going over the harebrained scheme in his mind, wondering how Tom could have gotten so far off onto the wrong track. It was amazing. However, the man's enthusiasm was catching. Harry wondered if he dare play along for a while. It was almost too irresistible. 

"What if it's Chakotay?" Harry teased, keeping his expression serious with an effort. 

"Chakotay?!" Tom boggled. "You're in love with Commander Chakotay?" 

"I didn't say that," Harry interrupted Tom's wild imaginings. "I'm not, as it happens. But I'm just curious. You'd ask Chakotay out if I said it was him?" 

"Now wait a minute here, Harry. This is serious help I'm offering here. This is not an opportunity for Harry to lead Tom up the garden path and watch while he makes a fool of himself. This is strictly a favour for a friend in need. You want to know if the guy is bi but you don't want to get hurt in the process. I'm offering to help, not be a human sacrifice." 

"Oh, I'm sure Chakotay isn't that bad, Tom," Harry teased a bit more openly now. 

"Harry," Tom warned. "This is a serious offer. Are you interested or not? I want to help here, but only if you want my help. Okay?" 

Harry stared in awe at his friend. "Why, Tom? Why in the world would you want to do something like that for me?" 

"Because I care about you, you dummy. Why else?" 

Tom's expression was unknowingly tender and Harry almost melted at the sight of it. 

"Tom . . ." Harry swallowed. "Tom, I don't know what to say," he confessed. It was true. Tom had gotten the idea all wrong. Now how did Harry explain without confessing how he really felt about him? 

"Tell me who it is, and we'll go from there, Harry. I'm here to help. I _want_ to help," Tom tried to put every bit of sincerity he could muster into his voice. Harry had to believe him. 

"What if I said it was Tuvok?" Harry tried to stall for time to think. 

"Uh, uh," Tom was shaking his head. "I know you better than that, Harry. Old Stone Face is not your type at all." 

"How do you know?" Harry whispered. What was Tom going to tell him now? 

"You've got too much sweetness inside you, Harry, to waste on someone who doesn't care for emotions. You deserve someone to love you openly, Harry." 

"Tom!" Harry's whisper was strangled. 

"Heh, heh," Tom chuckled, blushing. "Guess you never thought you'd hear that kind of sentimental mush coming from the mouth of this old cynic, eh Harry?" 

Harry just shook his head, reeling in the wake of Tom's words. He had to ask his own questions now. He had to know. 

"If I told you their name, and you asked them out, and they said yes, it wouldn't freak you out or anything, going out with a guy?" Harry studied Tom's expression carefully. 

"Well, hell, Harry, it's not as if I'm the one in love with the guy," Tom sounded amused. 

"That's not what I mean," Harry explained impatiently. "I mean, you'd be on a date, a real date, with a guy. That wouldn't freak you out?" 

"Why should it?" Tom looked bewildered. What was Harry getting at? "I'm sure we could find something to do together, even if it's just to shoot pool and drink synthale at Sandrine's." 

"You wouldn't mind everyone in Sandrine's knowing you were out with a guy on a date?" Harry probed. 

"Harry, what are you getting at?" Tom was getting exasperated. He went out with whomever he chose whenever he chose. He didn't give a damn what the rest of the crew thought. 

"What if he said he really liked you and wanted to hold hands or something?" Harry questioned, only half-seriously. 

Tom started to laugh. "Well, if there's any question of something like that happening, maybe I'd better take him surfing at the resort instead. I can always half-drown the guy, and you can come to the rescue like a knight in shining, not to mention suitably tight, swimwear." 

"Tom, be serious for a minute," Harry insisted. "You're not freaked out to go on a date with a guy?" 

"Why should I? He might be more fun than I've had with some of the women I've been out with in the last year. But Harry," Tom reminded him, still smiling with amusement, "we're talking about _your_ guy here. This is about you, remember?" 

"All right," Harry conceded. "Let me put this another way. What if _I_ asked _you_ out on a date? What would you say?" 

Tom shook his head. Harry had lost him again. "Harry, you can't be in love with yourself, here. What the hell are you getting at?" 

"Just forget about helping me out for a minute, okay?" Harry was actually getting excited at the prospect of what he was finding out here. Tom was actually talking about dating a guy as if it was no more than a stroll in the park. Was it possible? "What would you do if I asked you out on a date?" 

"Harry . . ." Tom just kept shaking his head. 

"I want to know," Harry insisted. 

"Harry, you and I hang out so much together already, why would we want to go on a date?" Tom chuckled. 

Harry heaved a sigh of frustration. This was getting him nowhere. "All right, let's put it a different way. What if I kissed you right now? What would you do?" 

Tom continued to laugh. "I think you need to seek out some professional help. You are making absolutely no sense here, whatsoever." 

Harry could see that if he wanted to find out what he wanted to find out, he was going to have to take the plunge and do something drastic. He got up and moved down along the sofa until he was sitting right in front of Tom. There was only about a foot between them now. He stared deeply into those startled blue eyes in front of him. 

"Now answer me, Tom," Harry spoke quietly, but with purpose. "If I leaned forward, right now, and kissed you, on the lips, what would you do? Would you run into my bathroom and throw up in the sink? Would you slug me? What?" 

Tom just stared into those unreadable dark eyes in front of him for a breathless moment. All he could read on Harry's face was fierce determination. There was no hesitation there now. There was maybe a little fear. Harry was very serious about this. 

It was finally starting to dawn on Tom that this little conversation had less to do with Harry being in love with some unknown crewman, and more to do with Harry's determination to test Tom's reactions to a pass from a member of the same sex. He had no idea what Harry's purpose was in pushing for this test, but he was going to give his friend an honest response, if it killed him to do it. 

"Why don't you kiss me and find out for yourself, Harry?" Tom suggested quietly. And even as he said the words, he knew he wouldn't be dashing into Harry's bathroom to throw up. Neither would he be slugging Harry. In fact, as his eyes dropped to those full lips of his best friend's mouth, and watched them open slightly as Harry caught his breath in astonishment, he found himself actually looking forward to the experience. Yes, he might just enjoy kissing Harry more than he could ever have imagined he would. He was going to find out now, whether Harry decided to back out or not. 

"I'm not into kissing guys who don't want to be kissed by other guys, Tom," Harry tried to bluster his way out of the embarrassing situation he'd put himself in. 

"Are you afraid I might kiss you back?" Tom challenged. 

Harry gasped in astonishment again. Tom was daring him to kiss him! What in hell was going on here? 

Tom could see panic beginning to appear in Harry's dark eyes. If Tom wanted this to happen, it had to be now, before Harry moved away, or belted Tom himself. He reached out and wrapped his hands around Harry's face, pulling the other man slowly towards him. 

"Relax, Harry," Tom whispered when their lips were only a breath apart. "I don't bite," he grinned softly. "Not on the first kiss, anyway." Then he reached out with his mouth and kissed Harry's lips. And it wasn't like anything he'd imagined. It was better. 

Harry closed his eyes and just let it happen, to hell with the consequences. Tom was kissing him, and he hadn't any idea how it had happened, but it was a dream come true and he was going to savour every moment of it as long as it lasted. 

Tom explored Harry's lips gently but thoroughly. It was wonderful. Harry's lips were warm and soft and tasted faintly of the spices from the evening meal and the synthale he'd enjoyed at Sandrine's. Tom slid his tongue slowly but insistently across Harry's lower lip and the mouth against his opened. He moved into Harry's mouth and was immediately engulfed in volcanic heat that scorched every nerve fibre in his mouth and lips. Harry's hot breath wafted over his face and Tom felt something in him ignite. His arms slid around Harry and tightened. He pulled Harry into a crushing embrace, suddenly filled with a wild need to get closer to the man, to feel that heat in the rest of his body. 

Harry wrenched his mouth away from Tom's, gasping for air, only to find himself crushed up against the other man's body. He turned his face into Tom's shoulder and let his own arms fold around Tom's waist, his hands sliding into the middle of that broad back. He didn't know what was happening, but he was clinging for life as he drowned in the sensations of being kissed and held by his best friend. 

"Oh, Tom . . ." Harry moaned softly into Tom's shoulder. 

"Shhhh . . . It's okay, Harry," Tom soothed as he accustomed himself to the feel of a man's solid bulk in his arms, a man's hard chest pressed to his. It was strange, but somehow satisfying. And he realized he had been incredibly stupid for a supposedly smart man. 

"Tom . . ." Harry tried again. 

"I just figured out who you're attracted to, Harry," Tom chuckled softly in self-derision. "Guess I'm a little slow on the uptake, eh?" 

Harry pulled back and gazed into the blue eyes sparkling into his. This was just amazing. "I'm afraid it's worse than that, Tom," he confessed. "I think I'm in love with you." He watched Tom's eyes widen. "Have been for a while." 

"Shit," Tom's whisper was strangled. "I'd no idea, Harry." 

"You weren't supposed to," Harry snorted. "You think I wanted to mess up our friendship by following you around making eyes at you or something?" 

"Well, maybe you should have. It would have saved us a lot of time," Tom smiled. 

"No way. You don't mean that." 

"Why not?" Tom was a little indignant. "You honestly think I could slug you for telling me you care about me that much? You're still my best friend, no matter what." 

"It was a possibility," Harry argued. "You've been strictly a skirt-chaser ever since we came on board, Tom. You haven't so much as flirted with another guy." 

"What do you expect? You do what you're used to doing. I'm used to chasing women. I guess I've just never looked at guys like that before. Chasing the skirts has kept me too busy," he shrugged sheepishly. 

"And now?" Harry asked quietly, his nervousness showing in the way he fingered the front of Tom's uniform. 

"And now I find I like the feel of my best friend in my arms," Tom admitted in a soft voice, doing his own gentle fingering of Harry's uniform. "And his mouth tastes incredible." Tom's eyes were caught in the dark gaze in front of him. "And I've spent a lot of time looking for something that was right beside me all along." 

"Tom, are you saying we could be more than best friends?" 

"I don't see why not," Tom pointed out. 

"It's not quite that easy," Harry argued, trying not to get his hopes up. Things were moving pretty fast. Tom had just broken up with Sue Nicoletti. Harry was desperately trying to keep his head while his heart was urging him to throw himself into Tom's arms _now_ and forget about the fallout until tomorrow. 

"Yes, it is, Harry," Tom was reassuring. He could feel Harry pulling back from the intensity of the moment, and he wasn't ready to let go yet. Tom felt he was on the verge of something so profoundly life-changing, he was almost breathless with anticipation. Had he finally found the answer, here with Harry? 

"How?" Harry wanted it spelled out. He wanted talking now. He wanted proof that this was real, that Tom meant what he said. 

"Look, we're the best of friends," Tom explained. He kept his voice calm and closed his hands in a reassuring squeeze on Harry's shoulders. "You've saved my life. I've saved yours. We've faced death together more times than I care to count. You know me better than anyone else on board this ship, Harry. You know I play fair when it comes to relationships. You know what I've been looking for with the women I've been dating. If I can find the affection and desire and commitment I need with my best friend, then I'm the luckiest guy in the whole damn universe." 

"Tom . . ." Harry was so afraid of being persuaded against his better judgment. He was fighting the excitement he could hear in Tom's voice, could feel deep in his own chest. 

"Harry, this could be _it_. Do you realize that? You've already said you're in love with me. If I can make that move too, from friendship to love . . . I already love and respect and admire you as the best friend and colleague I've ever had Harry. All we need to work on is the attraction part." He started to pull Harry slowly closer, his eyes on those full soft lips again. 

"It's not that easy," Harry stalled again, panicking slightly as he felt Tom's strong arms hauling him in. "Kissing is only scratching the surface here, Tom. Sex between men is a whole other ballgame, you know." 

"Oh, I don't know," Tom drawled as he brought Harry close enough to brush their lips together teasingly. His long-fingered hands were checking out Harry's musculature like a doctor doing inventory, starting at Harry's neck and moving smoothly along the shoulders and down his back, finally pulling their chests together. "You have some experience in this area don't you, Harry?" Tom whispered. He reached forward with his tongue and swiped a ribbon of wetness along Harry's top lip. He smiled as Harry's tongue came out reflexively to follow the same path immediately after. 

Harry was finding it very difficult to concentrate on the softly-spoken words. What was the question? Oh, experience. Oh, yeah. 

"Um," Harry blushed a bit before he could gather his thoughts and answer without completely embarrassing himself. "Yeah, I've had sex with a few guys over the years," he admitted huskily. 

"I don't see any problem then, Harry," Tom continued to tease Harry's lips with tongue and teeth. "You can give me a few lessons, and then we'll just have to practise . . ." he stopped to press a full kiss onto Harry's lips. "Practise," he pulled Harry forward until the slightly smaller man was almost laying across his lap. "Practise," he muttered and then sealed his mouth over Harry's and began to explore in earnest. 

Harry wrapped his arms around Tom's neck and hung on for the second time that evening. When Tom decided on a course of action, there was no holding him back.

* * *

The next morning, Harry yawned and stretched, waking slowly to the realization that there was a warm body pressed along his side in his rumpled bed. As conscious thought returned, he turned his head and smiled into Tom's blue eyes. He was relieved to see that fair head still resting on his pillow, where it had been laid the night before in exhaustion. He was relieved as well to see the happiness in those eyes and the slight smile of contentment on those firm pink lips. He turned towards Tom, his own smile lighting up his face. 

"Hi there," he murmured. 

"Good morning," Tom replied before raising himself up on one elbow and leaning in for a tender kiss, their lips brushing together and then clinging for a moment before parting. "Sleep well?" 

"Marvellous," Harry confided with a grin. 

Tom grinned back. "Same here." 

"I guess we're lovers now, hmmm?" Harry catalogued Tom's features in the faint light from the lamp they had left on in the other room all night. He thought Tom looked even more impossibly handsome after a long night's lovemaking and a good night's sleep than he usually did. 

"Yeah, I guess we are," Tom answered, the quick change in his personal life not seeming to bother him a bit. 

"Are we telling anybody?" Harry raised one hand to run questing fingers through Tom's mussed hair. It was incredibly soft and surprisingly curly when freed of its regulation combed-back neatness. 

"Maybe we should just let all the fuss of my breakup with Sue fade away first," Tom suggested, closing his eyes to concentrate on the feeling of those gentle fingers moving over his scalp. 

"Okay," Harry agreed easily. Tom leaned down for another soft meeting of lips. When he pulled back, Harry asked, "You want to shower together?" 

Tom grinned at Harry's mischievous smile. "Maybe tonight. I think right now we'd better concentrate on getting ready for our bridge shift, don't you? All my stuff is in my quarters." 

"Meet me in the mess hall in half an hour?" Harry suggested, sitting up slowly as he watched Tom climb out of bed and dress in the wrinkled clothes that were scattered over the bedroom floor. 

"Right," Tom bent for one last swift kiss and then headed out the door. "See you there."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Tom and Harry managed to keep their new involvement low key while in public, preferring to indulge themselves only in the privacy of their quarters. There they often spent whole evenings in various states of undress, engaging in erotic games and lovemaking, cuddling, talking, dancing and sleeping, all in as close physical contact as possible. They sated themselves on intimacy while alone together, which made it easier to hide their feelings under professional behaviour when on duty. 

Eventually it began to dawn on the more curious members of the crew that no new gossip regarding Tom Paris' lovelife had followed his breakup with Sue Nicoletti. Idle tongues started speculating about all the time that the two best friends seemed to be spending together. One was never seen without the other following closely behind. 

The speculation had reached fever pitch one evening as the two of them shared a table in Sandrine's. Tom was trying to persuade Harry to let him teach him some of the finer points of the game of pool. They were arguing amiably about the necessity of Harry needing to be a better pool player, when B'Elanna joined them, determined to find out how much of the gossip was fiction and how much was truth. 

"So," she drawled as she pulled out a chair and joined them without bothering to ask if she could. She wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer tonight. "What have you two been up to lately?" 

"Oh," Tom answered innocently enough, but his glance at Harry held a secret smile. "Just the usual holodeck fun and games, B'Elanna," he drawled in his turn. 

"Tell me about it," her voice took on a note of interrogation and Tom's smile turned speculative. 

"Nothing to tell," he answered blandly. 

"That's not what ship's gossip says," she persisted. 

"You listen to ship's gossip, B'Elanna?" Tom filled his tone with surprise and shock. "Tsk, tsk." He looked over at Harry, who was trying to hide a grin and found himself breaking into an uncontrollable smile in response to the sparkling eyes. 

"Listen, you two. I know something is up," she pinned Tom with a steely glare. "What trouble have you dragged Harry into this time, Paris?" 

"Now, B'Elanna, that's not fair. When was the last time I got Harry into trouble?" he teased her with a patently fake innocent air. 

"If you hurt Harry with one of your stupid schemes, Paris, I'll make you wish you were a cadet again," she growled. 

"B'Elanna, calm down," Harry intervened, amused at her championing of him. "I can handle anything Tom can dish out." 

"Oh, really?" B'Elanna's voice filled with skepticism. Somehow, Harry's confident grin did nothing to appease her. "Just tell me what's going on and I won't have to hurt either of you," she threatened, not completely playfully. "You know I'm going to find out sooner or later, even if I have to put you both under surveillance. Now, tell me. And do I have to remind you that you do _not_ want to mess around with the Chief Engineer." 

Tom and Harry's eyes met, Harry's with a question in them. Tom shrugged. B'Elanna saw it and knew she had won. 

Harry's eyes never left Tom's as he spoke quietly. "Tom and I are lovers." When there was no response from Torres, he turned to meet her incredulous open-mouthed stare. 

Finally B'Elanna found her voice and spluttered, "What?!" 

"You heard me," Harry grinned at her. 

"Are you crazy, Harry?" B'Elanna choked out. She turned to stare into the calm and confident blue gaze of Tom's eyes. She noted that he was watching her reaction with amused interest. "When did this happen?" 

"The night that Tom and Sue broke up," Harry answered. 

"You mean the night she dumped him," B'Elanna snorted derisively. 

"No," Tom kept his anger in check. "He means the night I finally had enough of Sue's power games and told her I wouldn't play them any more. As far as I'm concerned, it was ended by mutual agreement, even though I was the one who told her where to stuff it. If she chooses to tell the whole ship otherwise, I'm too much of a gentleman to contradict her." 

"A gentleman?" B'Elanna's voice was eloquent with her doubt. 

"Yes," Harry brought her attention back to his face with a growl. "A gentleman," he dared her to contradict him. 

"Contrary to what you might have been told by a third party," Tom drawled sarcastically, "I don't seduce, I don't abuse, I don't cheat and I don't slander. Any person on board Voyager who claims that I have done so is a liar. I may have made some bad choices in the past, but I have never tried to hurt anyone in my personal life, and I don't intend to start now. So give us a break, B'Elanna." His tone had become bitter, but it didn't show on his face. 

"And you believe him?" B'Elanna stared at Harry. She couldn't believe how calm they both were. 

"Of course," Harry smiled. "I love Tom, B'Elanna, and that means I trust him. We've been there for each other as friends. Now we're going to be there for each other as lovers. It's simple and perfect and we're very happy with the way it's working out. Can't you tell just by looking at us. It's working out, B'Elanna. Better than we hoped." 

"Why are you keeping it a secret then?" She was still suspicious. 

"Do you blame us for wanting to keep our private lives private for as long as we can? We know when people find out, everyone is going to have an opinion," Tom explained. 

"And a lot of them will be negative, like yours," Harry added. 

"And they won't bother keeping their opinions to themselves. They'll make sure to tell us both exactly what they think whether we want to hear about it or not." Tom spoke from experience. "So, yeah, we've been a little selfish. But we don't owe anyone any explanations, so we don't intend making any. It's our business.Period." 

B'Elanna was impressed with their determination despite her misgivings. "You sound very sure of yourselves." 

"We are," Harry turned back to smile at his lover. 

"Well, I guess all I can say to that is 'good luck'," she conceded. 

"Thanks, B'Elanna," Harry smiled at her gratefully. 

"Yeah, thanks," Tom added with a nod before letting his eyes send a private message to Harry's. "You want to leave yet, Harry?" 

"Yeah, let's go to the resort. I'd like to take a nice long walk along the beach. Maybe you could play that sunset subroutine." 

"Sure, Harry. Let's go." Tom stood, pushing his chair back and Harry did the same. As Harry joined him, Tom held out his hand deliberately, and Harry gave him his without hesitation. Their secret love had just become public knowledge. They may as well enjoy the benefits. 

The two men came around the table hand in hand and stopped beside B'Elanna. "B'Elanna," Harry made sure he had her complete attention. "I love Tom. Tom loves me." He paused and smiled. "Be happy for us." 

"I'll try, Harry." B'Elanna's gaze went from Harry to Tom. Tom was gazing with admiration and affection at his best friend and lover. Then Harry pulled on Tom's hand and he followed him out of the holodeck and into the corridor.

* * *

Chakotay and B'Elanna materialized on the transporter pad looking dirty and dishevelled after their shift on the planet looking for minerals. They had started at sunrise and had worked into the early afternoon. Tom and Harry took their place, ready to take the next shift. They would not be returning until the sun had finally set on the planet below. Then the four of them would do it all again tomorrow until they found what they were looking for; the minerals that the scanners said were down there, but didn't show up on their tricorders once they were on the planet's surface. 

For three days now Voyager's crew had been surveying the surface, three separate teams of four officers, working two at a time, in three different locations, on two consecutive shifts. The parties were kept small because of the constant risk of seismic activity from the unstable surface conditions. Large portions of the planet seemed stable enough, but there was a lot of tectonic stress and volcanic activity. They were trying to limit their risks by staying out of the most unstable areas, but it just so happe ned that the locations most rich in the minerals they sought were also in some of the most unstable portions of the mountainous parts of its terrain. 

Tom and Harry materialized in a shallow rock-strewn valley at the base of a mountain in the heat of midday, and immediately got down to work. Tomorrow their team would get a day off and another quartet would take their place, rotating as a relief team for the remaining two teams for the next three days. Everyone on survey duty was quietly aware that they were working against an unknown timetable in the search for the needed minerals. They all knew disaster in the form of earthquake or volcanic eruption could occur at any time and the chances of predicting the location beforehand were slim at best. Tuvok and an Engineering support team were constantly on watch aboard Voyager, ready to beam a team out at a moment's notice if necessary, but the risk was still there. 

The two men heading out from the valley floor on their way up the mountainside were not thinking about that though. They were moving slowly but surely forward, about thirty metres apart, tricorders working, shouting back and forth, planning their day off as they surveyed the terrain. 

"So, what do you want to do all day tomorrow?" Harry called. 

"Well, let's start with sleeping in, and then maybe some sex, and then lunch." 

Harry laughed. "Then a nap, more sex and then dinner?" 

"Harry, you're reading my mind," Tom shouted in return. "Then more sex and some snuggling." 

"And then bed!" Harry finished, shaking his head. 

"Sounds great to me," Tom called. "I've had enough walking, climbing and crawling around this planet for the past three days to last me a year. I don't plan on my feet touching anything firmer than a mattress for at least twenty-four hours." 

"What? Am I supposed to carry you to the bathroom?" Harry called back, laughing. 

"Thanks for volunteering, Harry. I knew I could count on you!" 

"Tom!" Harry suddenly shouted, all traces of laughter missing from his voice. "Point your tricorder over this way and tell me I'm wrong about this!" As Tom turned towards the panic rising in Harry's voice, he scanned in the direction Harry was facing. "I'm reading a massive build-up of stress in the valley floor. This doesn't look good, Tom!" 

Tom glanced quickly at the readings and keyed his comm badge. "Paris to Voyager. Two to beam out immediately. We have widespread readings of seismic activity at our location. Get us out of here before she blows!" 

Harry came running towards Tom. There was no answer from Voyager. "Kim to Voyager," Harry tried his comm badge. "Voyager respond! Emergency beam out! We're in trouble here!" He stared at Tom's face in horror. "What the hell do we do now?!" 

"Run!" Tom said. He grabbed Harry by the arm and started pulling him up the side of the mountain, but it was too late. They hadn't covered a hundred metres when the earth heaved and both of them found themselves flying through the air as solid ground disappeared from beneath their feet.

* * *

On board Voyager, Ensign Wildman spoke out sharply from the console she was stationed at on the bridge. "Captain, I'm reading movement beneath the surface of the valley floor where Paris and Kim just beamed down. It looks like seismic activity on a massive scale." 

"Confirmed," Tuvok intoned gravely. "I advise immediate beam-out of that team, Captain." 

"Lieutenant Ayalla, make it so," Captain Janeway turned to the Ops station. 

"Locking on," Ayalla murmured and then looked up at Janeway in shock. "Captain, I've lost their comm signals!" He stared at her in horror. 

"What?!" Janeway jumped to her feet. 

"I am still reading two lifesigns on the surface, Captain," Tuvok confirmed that the requested beam-out had not taken place. 

"Lieutenant, what's going on?!" Janeway glared at Ayalla. 

"I don't know, Captain!" A panicked Ayalla was shaking his head, his hands flying over the Ops console. "I can't get a read on their comm badges. I can't get a lock on the two human life-signs. Something is interfering with the transporter beam." He glanced up at Janeway's fierce expression. "I'm trying, Captain, but nothing is working!" 

"Transporter room," Janeway keyed her own comm badge. "Beam up the remaining away teams from the planet's surface immediately. And keep trying to get a lock on Paris and Kim!" She keyed her comm badge again. "Engineering, tell me what the hell is going on here. Why can't we beam those two out of there?" 

"Carey here, Captain," a voice came over the communication system. "I can't tell what is going on, sir," Carey's voice was bewildered. "The energy readings in that area are not consistent with normal seismic activity. There is something else going on in that location. Something that is giving off energy readings like I've never seen before." 

"Janeway to Torres!" the Captain hailed her off-duty Chief Engineer. "I need you in Engineering, B'Elanna," she ordered. "Stat!"

* * *

When Harry woke up he was lying face down in the dirt and there was an excruciating pain in his back. His head hurt and he felt kind of dizzy, but his hearing was fine because from somewhere off to his right he could hear someone crying, sobbing his name. 

"Tom!" he tried to call, but it only came out as a croak. He licked his lips and tried to work up some saliva in his mouth and finally swallowed. Then he tried again. "Tom!" It came out louder and stronger, but there was no answer. The sobbing off in the distance continued. Yes, that was definitely his name that he heard. It had to be Tom. He swallowed again, took a deep breath and put everything he had into his third try. "TOM!" he cried as loudly as he could. 

There was silence; complete silence. Then a frantic voice called out, "Harry? Harry! Is that you, Harry? Where the hell are you? Harry! Answer me, Harry! Goddamn you, Harry! Answer me!" The voice was screaming in agony and pain and despair. 

"Tom!" Harry croaked out again and tried to move, but the pain in his back stabbed him with a sharp cruelty he had never felt before. He knew he was very seriously hurt. He did a quick check of his body, trying to concentrate within the fog of his mind and his pain. When he realized he couldn't feel his legs he called out in panic, "TOM!" 

"Harry! Harry! I'm over here! Where the hell are you? Answer me!" 

Harry finally got his arms pulled up beside his face. He almost sobbed in relief to find that he could still move them. He pushed himself over onto his back as hard as he could, screaming at the pain that ripped through his body. He had to find Tom. 

And then the earth moved again. At least that's what it felt like. It took Harry a few seconds to realize that it was his body that was moving, not the ground. He was sliding down a very sharp incline. He had been lying flat on it, perhaps anchored by the toes of his boots, but as soon as he had turned over he had started to slide down and no matter how much scrabbling he did with his frantic hands he couldn't stop his downward momentum. He slid and slid and it seemed like half the mountainside slid with him. Rocks and loose dirt covered most of his body as they accompanied him down to who knows where. His head bumped hard on something and he lost consciousness again. 

The next time Harry woke, it was to the sound of sobbing again, but this time much nearer. 

"Harry. Oh, gods, Harry, don't die on me. Please, Harry, don't die on me. I can't take this, Harry. Please wake up. Harry . . ." Tom moaned and the sound of weeping filled the air around them. 

"Tom," Harry croaked out as best he could. 

"Harry!" the answer was immediate. "Harry, say my name again. Say it again, Harry! I've got to know it's real, and not my imagination playing tricks on me again!" 

"Tom," Harry moaned. He raised his hands to push his hair out of his eyes. He hurt all over. "Where are you, Tom? I can hear you but I can't see you." 

"Oh, gods," Tom moaned from somewhere near Harry's feet. "Not you too. You can't see at all?" 

"No, I can see all right," Harry reassured him. "I can see the rocks all around us and I can see the sky with that damn hot sun pounding down on us. But I can't see you. Where are you? Get up here where I can see you." 

"Keep talking, Harry. I'll try. I'm not in too good shape. I can't see much at all. Guess I took a bad blow to the head. My leg's busted up pretty bad too. Every time I move it I just about pass out from the pain. But I'll try. Just keep talking. I'm close, I know that." 

"Okay, just reach out with your hand. You've got to be near me. I can hear you plain as day." 

"There. I've got you," Tom's sigh of relief was plainly audible in the silence of the rock-strewn terrain surrounding them. 

"No, you don't. That must be a rock," Harry argued. 

"No, it's you. It's your boot." 

"Oh, well, I can't feel anything down there." 

"Oh, _hell_ , Harry," Tom moaned, burying his face in his sleeve for a moment. Harry's paralyzed. He can't see worth a damn himself. Gods, what next? 

Harry could just see the top of Tom's blond head as he craned his neck trying to see his friend. "What about your eyes?" he asked apprehensively. 

"Can't see anything but dark shapes and grey fog, but I've got your foot now. I've got you." 

"Well, see if you can crawl up a little bit closer," Harry pleaded. "I want to see you. Can you get closer?" 

"Just . . ." Tom broke off and gasped for a moment. His tone was full of pain when he spoke again. "Just give me a few minutes. I'll try," he panted. Then Harry felt a hand grab his and he squeezed for all he was worth. Tom grunted and then Harry felt movement and turned his head to see Tom slump to the ground beside him. He lay motionless as Harry reached out a hand to touch him. 

"Tom?" Harry whispered in fear. Tom didn't answer. "Tom!" Harry tried again, but Tom just lay unmoving at his side. He gathered all his strength, wrapped his hand into a fist and swung it, pounding it into Tom's chest. 

"Ahh!" Tom cried out and choked for a moment until he caught his breath. He turned his head but saw nothing but grey fog in all directions. 

"Tom!" Harry's voice sounded loud in Tom's ears and he reached out and touched a warm body beside him. He felt fingers searching for his and in a moment their hands were clasped together. Tom's grip was knuckle-crunching; Harry's just a slight squeezing pressure. 

"I couldn't find you," Tom whispered hoarsely. "I couldn't see anything. I was all alone in this damn darkness, Harry." 

"I'm here," Harry soothed shakily. "Hold my hand tight. Don't let go." 

"I won't," Tom assured with a ragged sigh. 

"Where the hell is Voyager?" Harry whispered, his voice full of fear. Neither of them were going anywhere. If Voyager couldn't beam them out, then they were goners. There was no telling how bad his injuries were besides the lack of feeling in his legs and the dizziness in his head. The weakness probably meant he was bleeding somewhere. And Tom? Tom couldn't see and every time he moved, he passed out. 

"I don't know, Harry," Tom whispered. "There must be something pretty bad happening up there for them not to pull us out. They must have seen the readings as well as we did. If they could have pulled us out, they would have. We're on our own for now, Harry." 

"I think I'm bleeding, Tom. I feel really dizzy." 

"Yeah. I probably am too, Harry, but there's not a lot I can do about it. I keep . . . losing it." Another sigh rose from Tom and ended on a sob. 

"Are we going to die, Tom?" Harry whispered. He tried to tighten his grip around Tom's fingers, but was afraid when he found that he couldn't. What if he lost feeling in his fingers? What if he couldn't tell whether he was holding Tom's hand or not? 

"I don't know, Harry," Tom moaned and started sobbing slowly again. "I don't know." 

"Can you hold me, Tom?" Harry's voice was rough with fear. "I can handle it then, I think. I can wait for . . . whatever comes, if you're close to me." 

Tom took a deep breath in preparation, then shifted slowly against the hard earth, rolling in minute increments towards the immobile man lying at his side. He gasped with the pain as he pulled his leg towards Harry and finally collapsed against him, his arm reaching out for his lover and grabbing him around the waist. His head fell onto Harry's shoulder limply. He felt himself drifting away on a cloud of pain and barely heard Harry as he started to talk, the young man's cooling lips brushing against his forehead. That coolness startled him and pulled him back from the edge of unconsciousness. As he listened to his lover's voice he found he did indeed want to cry with his weakness and his overwhelming sense of helplessness. 

"You can cry if you want to Tom, if it gets to be too much. I don't mind. Go ahead and cry on my shoulder. I'm here with you." Harry's trembling fingers brushed against Tom's grime-covered cheek. "And I'm _never_ going to let you go. Count on that. You're in my arms and that's where you're going to stay for however long we've got. I'm not letting you go now or ever. You got that?" 

"All right, Harry." It took Tom a few minutes of careful breathing before he could relax completely into Harry's arms as they cradled him. "As long as I've got your arms around me, I think I can handle it. And if we're going to meet the end right here, I can do it with you. I love you so much, Harry." 

"I love you, Tom. These last few weeks have been so wonderful. I didn't know I could feel like this about someone. What I felt for Libby never went this deep. You're so deep inside me, Tom. I don't ever want to leave you. I want to be right here beside you forever." 

"Yeah. I like the sound of that, Harry. Together forever, no matter what happens. Close as two people can be, hmmm? Heart to heart?" 

"Yeah. Heart to heart, Tom." 

"Hold me, Harry. Keep me safe," Tom whispered desperately against Harry's cold cheek.

* * *

"So, what do you want to do all day tomorrow?" Harry called to his lover as he studied the rocky terrain with his tricorder. 

"Well, let's start with sleeping in, and then maybe some sex, and then lunch," came the answer from his right. 

Harry laughed. "Then a nap, more sex and then dinner?" he called back. 

"Harry, you're reading my mind," Tom shouted in return. "Then more sex and some snuggling." 

"And then bed!" Harry finished, shaking his head. 

"Sounds great to me," Tom called. "I've had enough walking, climbing and crawling around this planet for the past three days to last me a year. I don't plan on my feet touching anything firmer than a mattress for at least twenty-four hours," he vowed loudly. 

"I hate to interrupt, gentlemen, but I'm afraid we have to leave this inhospitable planet at once, or you will be in danger of becoming permanent residents." 

Tom and Harry turned, surprise and shock plain on their faces. Tom barely had time to register the presence of the tall figure standing behind them, and the fact that he recognized it, when there was a flash of light and they were suddenly standing on Voyager's bridge. 

"Tom. Harry," Janeway breathed a sigh of relief at seeing her two bridge officers again. Finally. "Are you all right?" She glanced at Q who just smiled smugly. 

"Q?" Harry queried with bewilderment. Then, suddenly understanding that a question was directed at them, answered slowly. "We're fine, Captain. Is there any reason why we shouldn't be?" 

"Q," Tom stared at the infamous entity. "Where did you come from?" 

The tall dark haired alien exchanged glances with Janeway. "It's a long story, Lieutenant. Nothing you need worry about."

* * *

Tom and Harry sat on Tom's sofa in his quarters, just holding each other close, reassuring each other that they were both really there, together, alive and well and on Voyager. 

They had just gone through one of the strangest experiences in a long line of strange adventures aboard Voyager. As they looked at each other they both had the feeling that the strangeness hadn't stopped yet either. They were waiting in mutual trepidation for the other shoe to drop. 

They had been greeted back aboard Voyager by the Captain about an hour ago as heroes rescued from the jaws of death through the generous timeline manipulations of the mysterious Q. She had told them, to their shock and surprise, that they had actually died on the planet's surface some hours ago in a catastrophic earthquake that had ripped open the quiet valley practically underneath their very feet. 

They had died. Tom and Harry looked at each other and their arms tightened around each other convulsively. Thank all the gods in the universe they couldn't actually remember it. Q had taken them all back to the moment of the quake and pulled them out in time. This time. 

They also realized that there was something else going on here. Something to do with Q's appearance here on Voyager at this time and in this place. The Captain said they would hear all about it at the next morning's briefing and that they should just take the rest of the day off and relax. The relaxing hadn't panned out, but as they sat huddled together in Tom's quarters they were both relieved that they hadn't been asked to deal with any other universe-shattering news right then. This was all they could do for now. Just hold each other and try to find some way to continue without totally losing hold of reality. 

Reality. The reality of the situation was that they had had another really close call. 

"I love you," Tom spoke the first words either of them had said since they entered the room. They stared solemnly into each other's eyes. Tom's were tearing up with uncontrollable moisture. 

"I love you, Tom. So much, so much," Harry's face crumpled as well and he buried his head in Tom's shoulder. "Hold me, Tom. Hold me tight. Don't let me go," he whispered. 

"I've got you, Harry. I'm not letting go. Not until we both feel okay. Not until I can still feel you even after I've let go," Tom vowed, tightening his arms impossibly tighter, crushing Harry's slim body to him, close enough to imprint bones, close enough to hurt. 

"Tighter," Harry choked out, his hands going up to pull Tom's face around to him and then they were kissing, drowning in taste and heat and need. They ground their lips together until they were bruised and then their lips parted in unison and tongues began to mate in a wild dance as they sucked and bit and drove deeply into each other's mouths, starved for contact, for reassurance. 

Finally they broke apart, gasping for air. "Harry!" Tom wailed. "Harry, I've got to fuck you. I've got to. Right now!" 

"Yes! Yes!" Harry panted, pulling away and tearing at his clothes. "Now!" he agreed. They stumbled up from the sofa and towards the bedroom, clothing flying as they headed for the bed. Once there they fell upon it in a heap and began to writhe against each other, hands stroking hungrily, seeking to touch each other all over at once. Legs and arms tangled and grabbed. Hands reached for cocks and asses and soon they began frantically preparing each other for this passionate joining. 

Harry rolled to his back and pulled Tom towards him. "Tom, Tom . . . hurry . . . yes! Yes! Now! Now, Tom, now! Come on . . ." 

Tom applied lubrication with trembling hands, all the while listening to Harry's strange keening cries. He pulled himself close to Harry, positioning them both with practised ease and plunged into his lover, joining them in one powerful stroke. 

"YES!" Harry screamed in joy, in agony, in triumph over fate. He wrapped arms and legs in a viselike grip around Tom, holding them both still for an endless aching moment of connection, of affirmation, of overwhelming relief. 

"Harry, Harry . . ." Tom moaned into his lover's neck and then opened his mouth and closed it on the side of that strong column of flesh and muscle. He sucked and gnawed on the smooth warmth of Harry's throat and groaned at the taste and the feel of it. Harry. Yes, real. 

The rest was automatic and oh, so familiar: rhythm, pleasure, heat, trembling and then ecstasy. They lay finally, panting, weak, limply clinging to each other. They stayed still, savouring their joint euphoria as long as they could. Then Harry's body released Tom's and they slid together, skin silky with sweat and semen, into a more comfortable embrace, still closely entwined, damp and dreamy and murmuring sweet love nonsense until they both drifted off to sleep with the whispered sounds of the other's voice echoing in their ears.

The End


End file.
